


I am the One

by CellPhish



Series: Legacy of the Amells [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Awkward Flirting, Blood Magic, Blood and Violence, Canon Compliant, Canon Rewrite, Canon-Typical Violence, Chosen One, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Cross-Posted on deviantArt, Developing Relationship, Eventual Romance, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Feelings Realization, Magic, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sexual Tension, Stalking, The Blight (Dragon Age), The Fade, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:35:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21676138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CellPhish/pseuds/CellPhish
Summary: I am a servant of the Maker as long as I have life. I am the dust on the path of Andraste, the Chosen of her blood.A Dragon Age: Origins re-telling; also includes re-tellings of Awakening, Warden’s Keep, Return to Ostagar, Golems of Amgarrak, and Witch Hunt
Relationships: Female Amell/Leliana (Dragon Age), Leliana/Female Warden (Dragon Age)
Series: Legacy of the Amells [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1562605
Kudos: 6





	1. Blood & Lyrium

The world slowly came back into focus, ears ringing and the back of her head throbbing painfully from where it had smacked the stone floor. Still dazed, she managed to push herself up into a sitting position, the sound of metal scraping stone drawing her attention to the templars picking themselves up… and the very sharp voice of Knight-Commander Gregoir shouting at the First Enchanter. The memories flooded back in an instant and she felt her stomach twist itself into a knot and she retched, though nothing heaved out.

“And you!” Gregoir snarled, the sound drawing his ire in your direction. “Freshly Harrowed and already flouting the rules!!”

“Awina was acting under my orders, Gregoir.” Irving protested as two Templars grabbed her, roughly, by her arms and hauled her to her feet.

“And you think that excuses her?! Because of this… freak, a blood mage has escaped. Look at all he’s hurt.”

All she could do was stand there as a templar stood closely at her elbow. The fighting continued, Gregoir yelling Irving down every chance he got. Lily was shackled and led away to be shipped off to Aeonar the next day but Awina’s fate was still undecided. A third voice rang out over the argument, silencing the Knight-Commander. It was Duncan, the Grey Warden that had come to stay. His steely gaze seemed interested in her but she paid little mind until she heard him say her name.

“I will take Awina. She shows promise and her talents would be wasted as a Tranquil.” Gregoir says.

“What?! No!” Gregoir nearly screamed, his voice already red with his anger. “She will not be rewarded for her treachery to the Circle!”

“Then I will invoke the Right of Conscription and you will have no choice.” Duncan threatened though his voice remained level.

“You… you have no right!” Gregoir sputtered even though he knows the Grey Warden is right. “You will not take her!”

“Duncan is right, Gregoir. Once he invokes the Right…” Irving said.

“You planned this from the start!” Gregoir accused the old man, jabbing his finger against his chest.

Awina faltered when Duncan approached her, ignoring the argument happening behind him.

“You are a Grey Warden now. Come dawn, we will head for Ostagar.”

Awina wasn’t sure what that meant but it did mean this was no longer home. Tranquility would have been better than this banishment. Thrown from the Circle, all that she had known, and forced to be another pawn in war.

She had read stories about Ostagar and the surrounding Kocari Wilds but to actually be here was a dreadful experience. Duncan barely allowed her time to take in the surroundings of the war camp before pressing her into the responsibility of her fellow recruits and another Grey Warden, Alistair. Before nightfall, they were to hunt Darkspawn and collect their blood and Awina had never experienced battle before. Mages were trained in field work but she had not been prepared for actual field work and Darkspawn… they were more the nightmare than the stories made them out to be. Daveth stayed at her flanks, daggers expertly held in his hands as she cunt down any of the twisted creatures that got past Jory’’s blade and Alistair’s shield. However, their quest for these ‘documents’ Duncan wanted them to retrieve led them in conflict with a Darkspawn mage.

Awina stumbled back as she barely blocked a bolt of ice being thrown at her, her boots getting tangled in the mire of the swamp. She screamed in panic, fear taking control as a Hurlock broke past the two men and came charging forward, black bile frothing at its mouth as it sought to take advantage of the opportunity. An arrow suddenly sprouted from its chest, then its throat and the beast stumbled to the ground before her.

“Awina! Maker, are you alright?” Daveth called, Alistair and Jory rushing back as having beat back the last of the Darkspawn on the hill.

Overwhelmed, Awina broke down in tears and just sobbed in response just as she was helped to her feet. Alistair wrapped an arm around her and let her take a few moments to collect herself before they pressed their way up to the decayed tower. There was barely anything left of the stone work and all they found of the chest was rotting remains of wood and rusted metal. If there had been parchment inside, it was long gone.

“Damn, what are we supposed to do now, Alistair?” Daveth asked. “Those papers are long gone.”

“Maker…” He grumbled, arms crossed as he paced back and forth.

“What do we have here? Scavengers looking for something that is here no longer.” A sultry voice called out in the silence of the swamp.

Awina stared at the woman coming down the decayed stairs, somehow having snuck up on them. She was dressed similarly to the Wilder folk, a staff decorated with raven feathers and bones in one hand. She radiated energies of the Fade, her power stronger than those of the Darkspawn they had encountered earlier. Golden eyes fell on her but was distracted as Alistair stepped forward.

“That’s a witch.” Daveth whispered in hushed fear. “A Witch of the Wilds.”

“Who are you?” Alistair demanded, sword and shield at the ready.

“Didn’t you hear your friend?” The raven-haired woman sneered at him, standing quite proudly before them. “Surely you do not frighten like these men. Tell me your name and I shall tell you mine.”

“I… I’m Awina.” She piped up, her voice shaky with terror.

“You may call me Morrigan and your friend is right. I am a Witch of the Wilds but you have nothing to fear from me.” She retorted, apparently pleased with the meek response. “You came searching for something… something that is here no longer.”

“And what do you know of what we’re doing, witch?” Alistair challenged.

“Tch. I’ve been watching you since you stepped foot in the wilds and it was clear as day that the Darkspawn were not your focus. You are looking for whatever was in that chest.” She chuckled, rolling her eyes as Alistair flushed angrily. “The wards on them failed years ago. My mother has been keeping your precious parchments safe.”

“W-what?” Alistair exclaimed with surprise. “Your mother? Well… why would she do that?”

“I would not know. You’d have to ask her yourself.” Morrigan huffed, looking quite bored.

“She’s a Witch of the Wilds!” Daveth hissed again though Morrigan could clearly hear him. “We can’t trust her. She’s curse us and pop her into her pot for a stew.”

“Ugh.” Morrigan groaned, clearly unimpressed with Daveth’s fairy tale fears. “And what of you, Awina… are frightened of childish stories such as them?”

“I... “ She retorted, uncertain of her answer. She was scared, yes, but something about this woman… about the power radiating off of her drew her curiosity like a moth to a candle flame. “We should go with her. Duncan wants us to bring those treaties back and we already have the blood.”

“Awina, are you sure?” Alistair asked, the group seemingly deferring to the mageling without even thinking.

“Not really but we have to get those papers before the attack, whatever they mean to Duncan.”


	2. The Lamb Amongst Lions

Leliana’s hand drew the dagger from under her pillow the moment the screams woke her. There was no time to pull her leather armor on as she darted out of the tent, wondering who was attacking them in the middle of the night. The camp was abuzz but they were not under attack it seemed. The man, Alistair, and the wilder woman... Morrigan she recalled, were at the young mage’s tent. The screams, now whimpering sobs, were coming from there. Leliana straightened, noticing the towering  Qunari had also responded to the noise but seeing as there was no danger, lumbered back to his corner of the camp. Leliana took a deep breath to calm herself before ducking back into her tent to gear up. It was her turn for watch anyway.

By the time she finished dressing and arming herself, the sobbing from the tent had quieted and the witch was headed back to her little encampment at the eastern edge. Alistair sat there, rubbing at the stubble on his face.

“That was quite the excitement. You look tired.” Leliana said as she approached him.

“Oh Leliana.  Ya ...  Awina’s had trouble sleeping ever since the Wilds... since the Joining, where she became a Grey Warden.” He says to her, grateful for her company

“I confess, I do not know much about the Grey Wardens.” Leliana said quietly so she wouldn’t disturb those sleeping in the camp. “Is the Joining a ritual of some kind?”

“In a manner of speaking.” Alistair says evasively. “It’s... what makes a Grey Warden a Grey Warden. I can’t really say much more than that.”

“I see. I will not pry.” Leliana smiles, patting him on the knee. “That’s not the only thing though. I imagine the siege on  Ostagar was horrible. The few that survived were very fortunate.”

“Yes. “Alistair says, his expression darkening immediately as the subject immediately brings up the  guilt, he feels that he survived and not Duncan. “It was a miracle that  Awina and I made it out alive. Both of us were wounded. I... saw  Awina take an arrow in the chest.”

“What?! How...”

“Morrigan’s mother. An old Wilder witch named  Flemeth ... don’t know if she’s ‘that’  Flemeth but after she rescued us from the Darkspawn and tended our wounds, brought  Awina back from the brink of death...” He lets out a dry laugh. “I’d have believed she was Andraste herself at that point. What her and Morrigan did for us was... it was a miracle.”

“Careful of speaking such blasphemies to a ley sister.” Leliana teases him and he smiles at that, chasing some of the darkness from his expression.

“I’ll be sure to attend confession next time we’re at a Chantry.” He jested back, some of his awkward humor returning.

“I know I’ve only been traveling with your company for a few days but... I don’t know much about you three and Sten isn’t the talkative type it seems.”  Leliana changed the subject.

“Ah well, I can’t speak for him but I’ll doubt you’ll have much luck with Morrigan either.” Alistair retorts, gesturing towards the witch’s separated campsite. “I don’t know much about  Awina either, to be honest. We’ve only known each other a couple of weeks at best.”

“Really? You two seem so close.” She said with mild surprise.

“Yes. All I know, really, is Duncan conscripted her from the Circle of Magi by Lake  Calenhad and brought her to  Ostagar . Everything happened so fast, we didn’t really have time for much conversation.” Alistair sighs, getting up. “I’m going to get some shut eye before dawn.”

He heads to his tent, leaving Leliana on her own. The woman stands and patrols the perimeter of the camp but the night is quiet. They were only a few days from the outskirts of Redcliffe and she believed they had shaken any of Loghain’s men from their trail... or at least given them ample reason not to readily pursue them. Still, she could not shake the feeling they were being watched. Everyone grew up on the nightmarish tales of Darkspawn, Blights, and the Grey Wardens that fought them but to find herself in the company of two of them... possibly the last of the Ferelden branch of the Order.

Despite the paranoid feeling on the back of her neck, instinct telling her something was there, waiting, the night passed uneventfully. As the first rays of dawn broke the horizon, she grabbed her bow to hunt game for breakfast.

Awina was the first to wake as the sun began to crest the horizon, every muscle aching and feeling exhausted. Sleep was, at best, an illusion. Groggy, she rolled out of her bed-roll and pulled on her boots, ignoring the ache of her swollen feet. She packed her things inside then got out to start breaking down her tent. Maxwell, her mabari, chuffed in greeting at her and she paused to kneel and pet him.

“Good morning Maxwell. I hope you slept better than me.” She said quietly.

The  mabari whined worriedly and licked her face. The others in the camp were starting to stir, Sten and Morrigan already awake and breaking down their tents as well. When Alistair came out of his tent, Awina realized, then, that someone was missing.

“Where’s the ley sister?” She spoke up.

“Right here.” Leliana called as she re-entered the camp, a pair of large rabbits tied over her shoulder while she carried what looked to be a pheasant in one hand. “I thought I might get us some breakfast.”

Glad for fresh food for once, Leliana cleaned the carcasses while Alistair stoked a cook fire. Her stomach growled and twisted painful at the smell of cooking meat.

“Eat.  Lothering can hear the wailing of your stomachs still.” Morrigan sniffed as she shoved a piece of dried fruit into  Awina’s hand.

“T-thank you Morrigan.”  Awina said with surprise, as it was rare for Morrigan to approach anyone, let alone show any kind of empathy.

“What about me?” Alistair complained, shutting up when Morrigan shot him an icy glare. “Nevermind.”

They ate in silence, then finished up breaking down the camp and continued on their way. Alistair suggested they seek asylum with the  Arl in Redcliffe, as  Loghain had branded him and  Awina as enemies of the kingdom. Not only would they have to contend with the Darkspawn threat spilling across the land from the  Kocari Wilds but also being hunted by  Loghain’s men... even the citizenry if there was a reward involved for their capture or deaths.

However, that was the furthest thing from  Awina’s mind. The increased appetite, the constant aches in her back and legs made her numb. She was still trying to process Jowan’s betrayal at the Circle, though it felt like it happened a life time ago after having to suffer through the Joining and barely surviving the slaughter at Ostagar. Alistair walked beside her, Morrigan and Sten to the back, while Leliana was toward the front with Maxwell.

“Help!” They heard a call down the road a bit, a woman running towards them. “Our ox spooked and ran off the road and now we have a broken wheel!”

“W-we should help.”  Awina said.

“Let me and Alistair go ahead with Maxwell.” Leliana cautioned, growing suspicious.

Awina gave the Orlesian woman a confused look but obeyed. The  panicked woman led them off a side path where it appeared, true to her word, a cart had gone careening off. About a hundred yards from the main highway, there was a cart rolled on its side, one of the wheels broken but the ox was nowhere to be found.

“Something is wrong...” Sten growls as he reaches for the worn claymore he carried on his back.

There was a loud snap and a tree fell behind them, blocking their way back. Laughter behind them revealed three highwaymen, though their armor and weapons did not appear scavenged like the ones they encountered before.

“This is an ambush!”  Alistair exclaimed as he drew shield and sword.

The fighting broke out almost instantly, Sten and Alistair closing ranks around  Awina immediately. An arrow struck at Leliana’s feet, an archer just within the tree-lines. Using the confusion of the fighting to her advantage, she circled around unseen and caught the marksman by surprise, silencing him with a quick slice of the blade and without damaging the bow and quiver of arrows he carried. Familiar with the weapon, she shot down one of the assailants before moving positions but her blood ran cold when she heard  Awina scream.

Her staff was knocked from her hand and she stumbled backwards on to her rear as she tried to get away from the elven man towering over her. He was olive-skinned and blonde, a tattoo on the side of his face.

“The lamb among the lions.” He says, the dagger glinting in his hand. “Shame, you’re quite pretty.”

Maxwell comes charging to her side, blindsiding the man as the  warhound’s massive jaws crush down on his vambrace. One of the daggers falls out of his grasp and as they tumble, he tries to stab at the dog. Maxwell lets go and darts away to avoid the poisoned edge. Just as he stands back up, an arrow sprouts from his leg and Leliana is rushing in, slinging the bow over her back and drawing her own weapons. They clash but injured as he is and his  companions dead, the ambush is a failure. He immediately raises his hands up and drops his remaining weapon.

“I surrender!” He shouts, pausing Leliana’s incoming blow.

“What?” She demands with ridicule.

“Clearly I underestimated my target.” He says. “You and the  Quanri must be new, as I had only expected the two mages, the dog, and the pretty boy soldier there.”

“He doesn’t  seriously mean Alistair, does he?” Morrigan retorts with open disgust.

“Hey!” Alistair protests indignantly, helping  Awina to her feet.

Leliana presses her knife to his throat, keen blade pricking the surface enough to cause droplets of blood to form but the killing blow doesn’t come.

“Wait!”  Awina calls. “Who... who sent you after us?” She asks the man politely.

“He’s not going to tell us.” Leliana says, only to be surprised by the elven man’s response.

“An  Arl Rendon Howe placed a request to have you eliminated and I was selected for the task. Sadly, I am clearly inadequate and my life was forfeit the moment my blade’s missed the lamb’s throat.”

There is a stunned silence though it was not entirely unexpected that assassins were hired against them.  Awina looked back at Alistair with confusion and he seemed just as surprised.

“I would have thought  Loghain would have done it but if  Arl Howe was behind it... he must be involved in the coup as well! We must get to Redcliffe.”

“And we can’t carry extra baggage with us.” Sten points out.

“Ah well you’re not wrong but these attacks won’t stop and just because I failed does not mean others won’t come looking for you to complete the contract.” The elven man retorts snidely.

“You... you’re an  Antivan Crow.” Leliana says.

“I was until just a few moments ago. I bear no loyalty to them now, as they will kill me as sure as they will kill you but, perhaps, we could help each other?”

“Why...”  Awina starts to ask but Alistair cuts her off. “And why would we believe that? You’ll just slit our throats in camp tonight and be on your way.”

“It won’t matter if I kill you and I’m rather attached to living.” He retorts back with a smug smile. “Besides, the descriptions of you two do you no justice and this pretty Orlesian as company? I’d happily be your prisoner.”

“Slit his throat, please.” Morrigan says with obvious contempt.

“Normally I’d agree... But he makes a valid point.” Leliana replies as she pulls her blade from his throat and sheaths her weapons. “With the House of Crows after us, nowhere will be safe and some of their poisons not even magic can touch.

“And I doubt the wild witch is familiar with the reagents native to Antiva.” He smirks in Morrigan’s direction.

“Alright, enough.” Alistair sighed. “Just, tie him up and let’s take him to Redcliffe at least.”

They had already lost roughly an hour of daylight dealing with the Crow’s ambush but their new ‘companion’ proved to be a very talkative fellow. Despite being tied up and with Sten and Maxwell flanking him as his guards, his disposition was not one of dismay but of a joy that confused Awina... confused her enough for her curiosity to overcome her timid nature. Once they had stopped to set up camp for the evening, the elven man sat near the fire. She cautiously approached him, keeping a far distance from.

“Do you have a name?” She asks him.

“ Zevran .” He replies with a smile. “You are quite gentler than your companions. The contract made it out to sound like you were some horrible hag of a blood mage.”

“What?! O-of course I’m not.” She protests, cheeks burning pink with embarrassment. “I don’t practice that terrible magic.”

“I see. A Circle mage then... a pretty one too. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a woman with eyes like yours.” He  compliments , making her blush burn even brighter.

“That’s how you recognized me, isn’t it?” She sighs.

“It is quite a defining trait... one included in the bounty contract on your head.”  Zevran confirms for her.

Awina doesn’t say anything for awhile, just eats. Having been kept captive, the smell of food made Zevran’s stomach growl.

“Oh, you must be hungry.”  Awina says, getting up to fetch a bowl of the stew and bringing it to him, only to realize that his hands were still tied. “Oh, right. Well...”

“As much as I’d love for such a pretty woman to feed me, I can do it.”  Zevran smirks, winking at her as he wiggles his arms and suddenly, he is free from his bonds.

“Y-you...!” She said in alarm, Maxis standing and snarling.

“I must admit, the  Orelsian’s knot work is superb but it’s not the first time I’ve been tied up... likely not the last either. Thank you for dinner.”  Zevran thanks her as he eats.

Alistair and Leliana had both noticed the conversation, hands at their weapons but when it was clear  Zevran would remain true to his word, they relaxed. Leliana, however, kept a wary on him as Alistair helped himself to a third bowl. Between him and  Awina , it was like trying to feed an army regiment with how much the pair needed to eat on a daily basis.

As evening meal was wrapping up and everyone was preparing for bed,  Zevran walked towards  Awina to catch the Grey Warden mage before she retired to her tent. Maxwell gave him a warning growl, the elf well aware the hound wound not hesitate to rip his throat out. The young mage looked at  Zevran apprehensively, uncomfortable with how close the elf was. Her face turned red when he took her in both of his.

“I hope to earn your trust but I swear to guard your life for as long as I breathe.”  Zevran declares to her, his tone surprisingly serious. “Unfortunately, I don’t know your name.”

“A-Awina.” she replies as she yanks her hand out of his grasp.

“A lovely name for a lovely woman.” He compliments. “Anything you need of me, I shall do without hesitation, even if it is keeping your bedroll warm?” He offers suggestively.

Awina yelps with embarrassment and firmly shoves her hands against his chest to push him back before ducking into her tent. Maxwell sits himself in front of the tent flaps and growls at Zevran. The elven man just laughs and returns to the campfire.

“Well, it was worth a shot. What about either of you? Need a companion for the evening?” He says slyly to Alistair and Leliana.

Alistair flusters and Leliana just laughs and rolls her eyes as they both refuse him.  Zevran glances back towards where Morrigan’s encampment is and Leliana immediately cautions him.

“I wouldn’t.”

“Ah, then you’ve tried to woo the wild witch yourself before?” Zevran teases her.

“No but she is not fond of people in my limited experience.” Leliana retorts, scooting closer to the fire.

“I like when they play hard to get.” the  Antivan elf muses, making Leliana roll her eyes again as she was tending to the bow she had acquired from the ambush.

The camp was silent aside from the crackle of the fire as it burned down to glowing embers. Leliana had decided to take first watch but  Zevran seemed insistent on making a nuisance of himself. It set her teeth on edge.

“They don’t know who you really are, do they?” He says slyly, the smirk in his voice even though seeing his expression was a bit difficult in the dim firelight.

Leliana immediately tensed and her hand went to the hilt of her dagger, the urge to slit his throat and just leave his body in the forest rising. The group likely wouldn’t think too much on it, especially since the elf had attempted to assassinate them earlier in the day.

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’. Someone doesn’t just ‘pick up’ the skills you have. That come from years of grooming and training. I’ve met my fair share of Orlesian bards in my own dealings as a hand of the House of Crows.” The smirk in  Zevran’s voice was unmistakable. “I do, however, wonder if you truly seek redemption or are simply trying to run from it.”

The leather wrappings around the hilt creaked as Leliana tightened her grip, a soft hiss coming from the sheath as she pulls the steel along leather.  Zevran hears it and, surprisingly, turns his back to her.

“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me, bard. But... these are dangerous times and if this truly a Blight, we will have to put our demons to rest, one way or another, if the Grey Wardens are to succeed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a long time since I've worked on this but taking a break from my ME story since the first arc is wrapped up to progress this one.


End file.
